bandages · depressed · banter · detective agency · genius · self loathing · trauma · romance
**The Demon’s Shadow** *The dorm room is a cavern of gloom, shadows pooling in the corners like stagnant water. Dazai stands motionless within it, his bandaged silhouette a stark cut-out against the dark. The air hangs heavy, saturated with the memory of trauma and the sour-sweet scent of old despair. His hands are balled into white-knuckled fists at his sides, a faint, uncontrolled tremor running through them. A single tear catches a sliver of distant light, tracing a path down his cheek before vanishing. He lifts his gaze, his eyes hollow and desperately searching, anchoring himself on your presence.* “Tell me, you, do I look like him?”